Typist #4 - Every Romance is a Revenge Fantasy

He kissed me. I slapped him. He kissed me again, this time getting a better grip on my hands so I couldn’t beat him senseless.

“This is my father’s wedding ring,” he said.

Gasping for breath after the running and the kissing, I shot daggers at him with my eyes. “Like I care it’s a family heirloom.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “It was a mistake. I had his ring in my pocket in the restaurant, and I was so nervous about talking to you, I wasn’t paying attention, and I slipped it on.”

I couldn’t recall if it had been snowing already when I ran out the door, but it was definitely snowing now, fat snowflakes landing on both of our eyelashes and wetting our cheeks.

“You’re not married?”

“God, no!” He let go of my wrists. “I mean, no. I’m not. My parents are here to renew their vows. That’s the whole reason for this trip. They’ve gone through a rough patch over the years, but I think they’re going to be okay now.”

“And they’re renewing their vows?”

“That’s what I said. And I would have told you in the restaurant, if you’d asked about the ring, but apparently… I can’t take you anywhere fancy, can I?” He grinned, flakes of snow in his eyebrows.

“It’s true. You can dress me up, but you can’t take me anywhere, can you?”

He shrugged. “Aside from your restaurant manners, you do everything else perfectly. You make me want to be better, to act better, so I deserve you. After I got back to the hotel in Montreal, I called my therapist and begged her to take me back.”

“You have a therapist?”

“I didn’t take it that seriously before, but after I scared off the most sensational girl in the whole world, a girl who seemed to actually like me—”

“I do like you.”

“Therapy was no longer just an option. It was mandatory.” He kissed me again, gentle this time. “I don’t want you to run away ever again, Tori. Unless it’s for sport and I’m chasing you through the woods so we can have strange, angry sex that makes my blood boil.”

“Honestly, I’ve never slapped anyone before you. Maybe I should see your therapist.”

He kissed me again, hungrily, and pressed his body against mine.

I put my arms around his neck and leaned into him as I devoured his succulent lips and ran my hands through his hair.

He growled. “I’m going to throw you down in a snowbank and get some of that strange, angry sex I’ve been craving since you left me.”

I shivered. “Not the snowbank!”

He looked around. “Where else are we going to do it?” He turned and looked back over his shoulder. “Oh, hey, a hotel!”

He slipped off his suit jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders.

“We could see if they have any rooms at that hotel,” I said, hobbling toward the doors with my one broken shoe.

He scooped me up in his arms and started walking swiftly toward the door. “Good idea,” he said.

We went up to his room, which he assured me was just far enough away that my mother wouldn’t hear anything.

As we entered his room, him breathing down the back of my neck, he said, “This hotel has excellent soundproofing, but I’ll do my best to make sure the neighbors learn my name.”

“Oh, Smith.”

He grinned. “Just like that, but louder.”

“Your room’s nicer than mine.”

“It’s the exact same room. Mine just seems better because I’m in it.” He unzipped my dress and let it drop to the floor. We both kicked off our damp, snowy shoes, and then he threw me on the bed.

The bed was soft and welcoming.

Smith finished taking off all my clothes and climbed up alongside me like a tiger. His tongue flicked out and he licked the tops of my br**sts, above my lacy bra. He ran his tongue across my collar bone, and his fingertips up and down my arms.

His gentle touches made me howl in frustration, because I wanted him to grab me, and I wanted him inside me again.

He said, “My therapist said I need to talk to you, tell you what I’m feeling.”

“Ugh. Less talking.”

“I’m feeling… your hot ass.” His hands darted under my bu**ocks and squeezed.

“That feels good.”

“And now I’m feeling your gorgeous, creamy tits.” He unclasped my bra and cupped my br**sts in his hands. “And now I’m feeling some sort of rising action, down there.”

I sighed and grabbed his c**k with my hand.

He gasped. “Feels good.”

I continued to stroke his shaft, enjoying the soft velvet skin on my fingers. I rolled him onto his back so I could move down and mouth him, licking around the head and taking my time.

Peeking up along his gorgeous, muscular body, to that sexy face of his, I said, “Your therapist wants you to talk about your emotions. Your wants and desires.”

“I want you to remove your panties. I desire you without your panties.”

I squirmed around and wiggled out of them, so now we were both completely naked.

He gestured for me to move a certain way, and I knew exactly what he meant. I faced down toward his feet and threw one leg over him, my br**sts over his belly button as I took his c**k into my mouth.

With his hands resting on my bu**ocks, he licked between my legs, focusing on my clit. He brought me to the edge of cl**ax, then eased off, even as I ground down against his chin.

I laughed when I realized I’d completely forgotten about his cock, and had been resting with my cheek alongside it, enjoying the sensations of him giving me pleasure.

“I’m so glad you came to Switzerland,” he said.

“I’d like to come in Switzerland.”

He chuckled. “Me, too. But there’s no rush.”

I licked him from his balls to the tip of his cock, and then back down again. He moaned in pleasure, but stayed still, nothing moving except one foot, twitching now and then when I flicked my tongue a certain way.

He kept licking me some more, taking his time, until I couldn’t wait any more. I spun around and lowered myself onto his hard erection.

He grasped my h*ps roughly, pushing me down, driving me onto him. I slid down easily in one stroke, gasping when my flesh hit his hips. I rocked back and forth on his cock, enjoying the length and width of him inside me, my nerve endings bursting with pleasure, like fireworks in a summer night sky.

“Oh, Tori. I meant all the things I said to Sheri. I mean that Detective Smith said to Sheri.”

I ground against him, wanting more, more.

Panting, I said, “You mean you solved the case I hired you for?”

“Yes, Tori, I solved the case.” He laughed, and then stopped laughing, grimacing as he pulsed inside me, growing so big. “The case of the missing heart. And by that, I mean I love you.”